


light

by tenuis



Category: NSYNC, Popslash
Genre: AU, LoTR!sync, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-13 11:25:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5705926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenuis/pseuds/tenuis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>because elves can walk on snow, gracious and almost weightless. and dwarves aren't really into them, no.</p>
            </blockquote>





	light

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by LoTR and the slim, thin body of some boyband members.

While sunk, stranded inside layers of snow, Chris looks behind him. Other dwarves trailing after himself in the same situation struggle to walk free. His clothes, though thick in fur, are biting cold on the inside, with frozen flocks falling under slim gaps over and over and over.

White-blue shadows on the side of frozen rocks give the godamned white an even cooler shade, under the bright black of the night. Sighing, Chris bores his arm down on the snow, hard; the surface is now marked with the outline of his heavy arm. _Yeah, see how you like that._ He pushes the density even further, and resumes his attempts at walking to the other side of the mountain. 

When he sees two pairs of feet on the side of his head, he almost jumps. He follows the path of their legs, their ever ending legs, and their chests, and necks and _oh--_

of course, two pairs of eyes looking at him, looking _down_ at him -- because the fact that he's already smaller wasn't enough, was it? --, almost as if in pity. Their skin is shining, and their pink lips are curved upwards in sympathy. Their strands of hair, in the wind, lock together, because they're close. Too close, even; when the straight black and the curly blonde flow almost as the same, but it's not the same, because _curls_ , anyway? On _elves_?

Chris scoffs, and notices his eyes are glassy. His dilated pupils hurt when he looks down at the snow again, but he ignores that and proceeds punching at the frozen water. He hears soft amused voices, and sees at the corner of his eye graceful long feet and linked pale fingers.

He shakes his head. To comfort himself, he compares their blue eyes to the intimidating night sky, and the white of their skin to the hopeless white of the snow.


End file.
